


the world was built for two

by gen00



Category: Captain America
Genre: Fluff, M/M, One Shot Collection, Pre-Infinity War, hopefully this will make up for /that/ ending, im too hurt to write anything post, the avengers are all besties
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-13
Updated: 2018-12-09
Packaged: 2019-05-06 09:10:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14638662
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gen00/pseuds/gen00
Summary: a collection of stevebucky one shots, with songs that match. two brooklyn boys and a lifetime to catch up on.





	1. if you wait

**Author's Note:**

> If You Wait // London Grammar
> 
> "i will trust in time that we will meet again"

// _if you wait_ //

The soft thrum of Steve’s heartbeat flooded Bucky’s ear, they were here, alive, despite everything. Brooklyn rain pattered softly on the window through barely open curtains, moonlight washing over the soft surface of the apartment floor, onto the sofa. Two Brooklyn boys, laying their heads down to rest. Finally.

Steve pulled Bucky in tight, rocking them both gently as if the movement would settle the earth around them. Large arms, soft and warm and safe. _so safe_.

“Steve?”

Bucky softly lifted his head from the crook of Steve's neck, searching intently through the moonlit room for those eyes, the eyes that saw every part of him, knew every inch and held every emotion.

“I’m here, Buck”

Steve’s arms gripping tighter still, as if by letting him go Bucky would disappear, turn to ash.

“I’m so tired, Steve” Bucky softly whispered, nestling himself further into Steve's neck as if he were to cling ever tighter, they’d never have to part again.

“Lay with me forever?”

“Anything for you”

Two halves of one whole, Bucky clinging onto Steve as if his whole existence relied on his touch, the end of the line circling between them. A vicious circle, of loss, over and over. But they were here, together. years of war, of loss, death and more fucking _loss_.

Bucky knew he loved Steve from the first time he ever laid eyes on him. Through everything, that was the constant. Bucky sighed, tracing flesh fingers over Steve's neck, over the same jugular he had aimed knives at. The rain calmed him, Steves breathing grounded him. He was just so tired. He wanted to _live_.

“Do you remember,” Steve starts, as if he could sense Bucky’s wandering mind, “When you used to tease me about my cold feet?”

“Goddamn _icicles_ , your circulation was so poor I thought they would freeze over”

“Look at us now” Steve hooks a leg around Bucky, foot brushing his calf. _Warm_.

A pause, Bucky starts gently,

“Do you ever miss it, Stevie? If you’dve known all of this was to come would you have stayed home?”

“As long as I knew we’d always find each other, then I wouldn't change it for the world”. Steve pressed a kiss against the crown of Bucky’s head. It was simpler then, yes, but Steve wouldn't change it for anything in a heartbeat. Here, he got to hold Bucky, to love him so purely, with his whole fucking _soul_.

Bucky shifts himself so he’s looking face down at Steve, metal hand coming to swipe hairs from Steves forehead. He presses a gentle kiss upon his lips, Steves arm still resting on the small of his back. The boy below deepens the kiss, causing Bucky’s mind to spin. Steve’s other hand comes up to grab at Bucky’s hair, and Bucky runs his tongue along Steve’s lips.

_I could die, I could die right here and now and it would be ok, because I had this, because I **have** this. _

An idea springs into his mind. He pushes away softly, getting up off the couch, hand stretched for Steve. He takes it.

“Where’r you taking me?” Steve slurs, as if drunk from their kiss. Bucky remains silent, leading the way and letting each step explain.

+++

Heavy rain falls down onto the roof of the apartment block, Bucky pulling Steve from the stairwell. His hair instantly matting onto his head, soaked along with his clothes. Bucky’s breath pulls, the rain coating Steve and making him look impossibly beautiful, until he begins whining,

“ _Buuuuuck_ it's weeeeet”

Laughter, so pure and light, erupts from both of their chests and the reaction only entices Bucky further, tugging at Steves fingers. He pulls him in close and spins him around

“I'm not some dame, buck”, light tones and quick tongues as Bucky pushes his lips against Steve’s again, slick with rain.

Quickening his pace into a run heading straight for the edge, pulling Steve with him, he stops right before they meet the city. The traffic below still hums despite the late night hour. Taking a huge breath into his lungs, he screams at the skyline,

_“I’m alive”_

Another breath

_“ **we’re** alive”_

The city continues, but Steve falters grabbing Bucky so tight he thinks he’s going to snap,

“I _love_ you, James Barnes”

He turns, and screams out into the rain,

_“I love you”_


	2. all yours

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All Yours // APRE
> 
> "i've been meaning to tell you, i'm all yours"

// _all yours_ //

 

Waves were simple. They pushed up, they pushed down like a chest. Lungs filling against a ribcage, air leaving and plummeting into a cavity. There was difference between waves and breathing, though. Lungs were attatched to a body, a mind, imprisoned inside a skeleton with a soul inhabiting it. A skeleton with a mind, a pulse, a heart that beats. _A heart that loves_.

Bucky stared out into the ocean, thinking over his analogy. Tides creeping back and forth, pushing and pulling. He thought about Steve. Of course he thought about Steve, the only thing ever to inhabit his mind, 70 years ago, right now, was _him_. He thought about kissing him, and hugging him and touching him so gently, he was allowed this now. Nothing holding him back.

“What you thinkin’ bout, Buck?”

There it was again, _that voice_. 

Sand crunched under the weight of the approaching man, a weight that used to be so tiny, so small. Steve sunk down next to Bucky, hand reaching over to smooth the hair out of his eyes, 

“Thinkin’ bout you”, Bucky replied, leaning into the touch, 

“Bout you bein’ small”, he sighs, before looking up and wagging his eyebrows, “Nothin’ small bout you now, huh?” 

A wink. 

“Always the charmer Barnes” 

“You know it babydoll”.

It took a while to reach this point. A comfortable inbetween of everything he is, everyone he was. The midpoint between the cheeky Brooklyn boy, prisoner of war Sergeant Barnes, the iced out shell of The Winter Soldier, and whatever the hell came after that. He was finally able to reclaim it, his name. _Bucky._

 _“_ Sam’s on his way down now, this the spot you wanna stay in? _”_  

Steve shifted his weight to lay his head across Bucky’s lap as Bucky nodded, brushing his nose against the crook of his waist. 

“Imagine if the world knew how damn _cuddly_ their Captain America was”

“‘’m not cuddly” a defensive tone, muffled against Bucky’s hip as he clung closer, “just, really, _really_ loving” 

He huffed a laugh, 

“Loving, hmm? Is that why you hog the covers all the time?” He moved his hand to Steve’s shoulder, 

“Is that why you’re only ever able to make enough coffee for yourself” 

Hand moving again, leaning over a little to close in over Steve, 

“Or why you _always_ put your clothes in the laundry _inside out_?” 

Bucky’s hand reached Steve’s side, below his ribs and above his hips. The touch made Steve snuggle closer. 

“Bad move, Rogers” Bucky whispered. 

Fingers dug in where he was most ticklish. Relaxation left Steve’s body, letting out a yelp as he rolled around before both of the men burst out laughing. Sitting up through laughs, Steve pushed Bucky back onto the stones before digging both his hands into his sides, a tickling war commencing. 

“You are actual children” 

Neither of them heard Sam approaching through laughs, holding two ice-creams in hand.

“Aw Sam, you got me a cone?” Bucky drawled after composing himself, 

“No.” He took a lick of both of them, deadpanning as he sat down, “They’re both mine.” 

Bucky reached out to grab one, 

“You think your spit is gonna stop me?” 

“I think my teeth might” 

“I swear I can’t take either of you anywhere”, Steve entered the conversation, smirking and brushing his hair back. 

“You don’t _take_ me anywhere, old man. I come out of the goodness of my heart” Still licking at his ice cream, Sam interjects, “Someone needs to keep the old hags company when they’re allowed out of the nursing home”. 

“That’s just _rude_ ” 

“You’re rude, being all lovey around me, its gross, like seeing your grandparents kissing or something” 

“I am not _old_ ”

“I am not _gross_ ” 

Steve and Bucky whine at the same time, Sam just smiling into his cones. 

He’d had his doubts about Bucky, through all the murder attempts, but seeing how far he’d come and how happy he’d made Steve? Sam decided it was worth it all, doing it again in a heartbeat was no question. They’d created a happy little dynamic despite everything.

“I hate you both”.

xxx 

The sun began to lay low, colours settling into the skyline. Pinks, purples, blues, yellows. Bucky thought about the colour. 

He hadn’t allowed himself the pleasure of colour for a long time, between New York and Bucharest. It was easier to compartmentalise everything if he thought in black and white. Violent ends of the spectrum to which he was bound to, like moth to flame. His white was Steve, always had been. Metal fingers pounding a pale face, metal and flesh. The white sheets and city lights of their Brooklyn home in the 30’s. The light of the morning sun shining through, casting shadows across.

He was black, violence in the night, screams and taunts and fists flying. The leather binding him, the uniform touching him, owning him, branding him, the mask that restricted him. The scars that ran deep into innocent flesh. 

But black and white wasn’t so simple anymore. He had Steve, the world was in fucking _technicolour_. 

He looked over, Sam and Steve were engaging in a ever tense argument over which flavour of dorito was best, Steve siding with cool ranch and Sam fighting to the death over chilli heatwave, 

“Just ‘cos your white ass can’t handle a bit of _seasoning_!” 

“It’s not that I _can’t handle it_ , Sam, I just prefer cool ranch!” 

“Excuses excuses Rogers, I know that you’re _sensitive_ ” 

Sam rolled his eyes, Steve’s mouth wide as he turned to Bucky, 

“C’mon, Buck, isn’t cool ranch better than chilli whatever, back me up here” he whined, displaying his best puppy dog eyes, Bucky just rolled his. 

“I’m so not getting involved in this” 

“ _Bucky! My hero! defend me in this argument I cannot win! Because Sam Wilson is always right!”_  

Steve just reached over and smacked Sam’s shoulder, which prompted Sam to smack him back. The two exchanged smacks, growing in intensity before Sam put his hands up in defeat, 

“Chilli heatwave is still better” he muttered.

Steve just sighed again, before gathering his body weight and offering a hand out to the two sitting men, helping them stand,  

“Think we better get going, i’m getting chilly” 

“Or i’m guessing the nursing home wants to wrangle all their OAP’s before 9”. 

Letting go of Sam’s hand dramatically, and leaving his entwined with Bucky’s, they began to walk up the beach to where they had parked the car. The two men bumped shoulders, as if to check they were both still there, as if clinging to each other hand in hand wasn’t enough. 

As they approached the car park, Steve stopped as he pulled the keys out of his pocket. Bucky noticed his eyes were frantically searching the packed car park, 

“What is it, Steve?” his tone becoming defensive as his posture joined, 

“I-um, I can’t remember where I parked the car” 

Bucky settled, letting go of Steve’s hand, 

“You can’t remember where you parked the car?” 

“You’re fucking kidding me” Sam joined in, “how hard is it to lose a _fucking SUV_ Steve?” 

“I told you we shouldn’t let him park the car” 

“You wanted to pick a spot” Steve pointed accusingly at Bucky, “And you wanted ice cream”, finger moving over to Sam. 

“I know I make old jokes all the time Steve, but this really takes the cake” Sam began laughing, “you think i’m ever gonna let this one slide, oh _god_ ” he doubled over clutching his stomach, 

He pulled his phone out,

“I’m _so_ telling Nat and Clint, they’re gonna die” 

“A fucking SUV Steve?” Bucky began to huff a laugh too, “you’re ridiculous” he brushed a kiss across his cheek, 

“I swear i’m not that bad’. 

xxx 

As the car passed down the Brooklyn streets, Bucky thought about how lucky he was. The streetlights illuminating the scenery, so familiar yet so different. 

70 years. No more longing, no more rust, no more mission reports. Beautiful sunsets, daybreaks. Finally, _homecoming_.

 

 

 

 

 


	3. the end of love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The End Of Love // Florence + The Machine
> 
> “it was so far to fall, but it didnt hurt at all”

// _the end of love_ //

 

“Do you miss it, Steve?”

“Miss what Buck?”

“Back then.”

They’d had everything ripped from them that day in the mountains. Neither of them capable of forgetting it, not even through years of brainwashing and wiping.

Dusk settled over the apartment, two cups of coffee sitting on the table in the street illuminated room.

“Do you wanna talk about it? We could get the albums out” 

“Albums?”

“Yeah, the museum had ‘em, I got them back after... well anyway I’ve never looked through them. I guess I was subconsciously waiting for you”

 

xxx

 

“Oh my god Steve, you were so fuckin’ _small_ ” 

The picture between the metal fingers showed Steve, standing straight as a rod, army uniform drowning his small frame and head lost under an all too big helmet. The back was dated 1943, right before the serum.

Hands flipped through the pages, more of Steve in the army, Steve’s headshots, Bucky’s headshots, photos of the Commandos, but bodies froze as they happened upon the last photo.

Edges curled, frostbitten and burnt at the same time. It displayed the two Brooklyn boys, side by side with the snowy mountains in the background. The same mountains that encased the final moments of the old Bucky Barnes. The ravine that held endings and beginnings. 

“Did it hurt?” 

Steve was met with silence. Bucky was frozen, staring at the photo. He took a deep breath, 

“No.” 

“No?” 

“All I could think about was you. God you- you just looked so beautiful all wind swept and golden. I was so fucking scared Stevie but all I could think was _at least it’s not him, at least it’s me it’s not Steve_ I-“ 

He took a breath, 

“It wasn’t the fall that hurt Stevie, it was what was waitin’ for me at the bottom.” 

Flesh hand met metal, pale skin against beautiful glimmering silver. Some days Bucky couldn’t even look at the arm. A constant reminder of what he was, what he’d done. Some days he would get so frustrated at Steve, looking at him like he was some fucking Adonis even though he was just a killer. But most days, he could reassure himself. It wasn’t him. He was made that way.

Metal met flesh again, but this time it was a cheek. A soft kiss, pressed against the blonde boys lips, a soft touch. No punches, no bruises, no masks or leather binds, just metal on flesh _so soft_. 

Steve moved to deepen the kiss, hands coming up into Bucky’s hair, photo album sliding off his lap and hands snaking around his waist, grasping at the back of his shirt, as if by not clinging tight enough he would drift off into space.

Steve pulled back, staring into those two blue eyes, not with sadness, but with something akin to curiosity- mischief even.

“One more question?” he asked,

“Only if I get more kisses after” 

“Why didn’t you ever, you know, have a dame? You always saw these ladies but you never settled down with one? It was always just a one time thing”

Bucky sighed, 

“Are you really that _naïve_ Rogers?”

Steve shrugged, Bucky continued,

“It was only ever you. I kept thinkin’ maybe if I saw them all I’d get over it, find a pretty girl and get over my stupid crush on my best friend. But it was only ever you, babydoll” 

“End of the line?”

“End of the line.”

 

xxx

 

The television supplied the apartment with soft background noise as Bucky slept. Drained from the albums, statements from his mind and soul ringing off the walls of Steve’s chest cavity. Draped across Steve’s lap, black hair frayed like thread across his thighs, hands grasping at trouser fabric.

Steve could only watch lungs filling and emptying. It was unreal, like a book of fiction - a movie even, mind racing and heart skipping at the simple fact that they were here. alive. together even.

Two boys, 100 years on them, enough pain between them to last several lifetimes. But fate would have it that they exist in the same time. After all these years, gaps inbetween, the universe let them meet again.

“C’mon Buck”, Steve whispered, shaking the sleeping soul softly, “Let’s get you to bed”

“mMmNPh. _Stay_.”

“We can’t sleep on the sofa baby, we’re 100 goddamit”

Bucky’s refusal to move left Steve with only one option. He scooted from underneath Barnes, head falling to the pillow with a soft plop. Reaching underneath his thighs, and around his shoulders he lifted Bucky from his position on the couch.

“m’ Steeeevie, carryin’ me ov’r the threshold”

“Shut up and go back to sleep”

He blinked up at Steve, eyes soft and honest,

“End of the line?”

“ _End of the line_.”


End file.
